


Might Be Better

by Soozen



Series: Little Talks [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Azula (Avatar) Redemption, Conversations, Forgiveness, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, finding common ground, gratitude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26923972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soozen/pseuds/Soozen
Summary: Years after the war ends, Azula approaches Katara to tell her something long overdue.
Relationships: Azula & Katara (Avatar)
Series: Little Talks [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1964512
Comments: 23
Kudos: 120





	Might Be Better

**Author's Note:**

> While this fic is part of a series, it is not necessary to have read the first to understand this one.

Azula has ruminated over her conversation with Aang for some times, some weeks, and has come to the conclusion that there are more people she should speak with.

How, exactly, to get those she wants to talk with alone is a problem in and of itself, considering none of Zuko’s friends trust her, but Azula is less concerned about that. The time would come, she only has to wait, and Azula has never had a problem with patience.

Having a less threatening demeanor, however….

She hopes that the first opportunity will be the earthbender- not that because the most important or pressing conversation is with her (that conversation would have to be with the Kyoshi Warrior). No, the blind girl has a bluntness about her that Azula respects. There is no wondering what she is thinking, no need to find just the right words.

But, of course, the first opportunity to speak with any of them presents itself with the waterbender.

Katara, Azula reminds herself. Her name is Katara, and she has numerous accomplishments and titles: master waterbender, master healer, daughter of the chief of the Southern Water Tribe, girlfriend to the Avatar, best friend to the Fire Lord.

And, the only person to ever defeat Azula in a fight.

Azula flexes her fingers, watching Katara and Zuko from behind as they sit by the turtleduck pond. She is not quite in the courtyard, not quite in the palace, waiting for the right moment, for Zuko to be pulled away. It is rare he gets a moment on his own, without a servant or a steward or an official of some sort coming to him with urgent news and matters.

If she were ready, Azula could help more. But she isn’t, not yet. Maybe soon.

Her palms are sweaty as she prepares herself. There is no telling how the waterbender- Katara- will react, if she will even let her speak. They’ve never shared a word with each other, not even so much as a greeting. Both have separately come to the conclusion that it is simply best to pretend the other doesn’t exist.

But Azula cannot do that any longer. She has important words to share with her.

Movement catches Azula’s eye; a steward coming from one of the doorways into the palace, eyes on Zuko. Good. Quicker than she’d thought. She wills her palms to dry, not wanting to be so undignified as to wipe them on her robes.

The steward approaches Zuko and Katara, bowing deeply, before speaking to her brother; she cannot make out anything that is said, but it is easy enough to understand what is happening. Zuko’s shoulders sag, and he turns to Katara, who gestures for him to go. He nods to her- undoubtedly apologizing for the interruption (and he really must learn not to apologize so much, he is the _Fire Lord_ after all)- before standing and walking off with the steward.

Leaving Katara alone at the pond.

Quickly, not knowing just how long Zuko will be gone (and this is a conversation that she would prefer to have in private, without her brother overhearing), Azula moves forward. She stops several feet behind Katara, takes in a breath, and then clears her throat.

The waterbender glances over her shoulder before her eyes widen, and she stands so swiftly and fluidly Azula might be convinced that she is made of water as well. Katara says nothing, but her stance is nearly defensive; she can see the water of the pond ripple behind her.

Ah. Perhaps by the pond was _not_ the most ideal spot to speak with her.

Azula tries her hand at being friendly, conversational. “Hello.”

It falls flat. Katara’s brows are knit so tightly when Azula speaks, so low, it is a wonder she can see beyond them. “What do you want?”

“To talk.”

A scoff from the waterbender. “I don’t know if we have anything to talk about.”

Azula sighs, looking away, past Katara at the turtleducks. “Zuko _did_ say you hold grudges like a dam…”

There went the nice and friendly approach.

“Don’t act as if this is undeserved after all you did,” Katara bites back. “Zuko and Aang might trust you, but I don’t have to.”

“I know.”

“You did _terrible_ things.”

“I know.”

“ _The worst._ ”

It is as if Katara is trying to rile her up; a stupid move, but then again, Katara doesn’t know that instead of snapping with anger and lightning, Azula is more likely to fall inward, enclose herself in her mind, detach from the reality she is in. So Azula shuts her eyes and takes in another breath. Her hands, clasped and clamped together, are hot, clammy. “…I know.”

That seems to take Katara by surprise, for it feels as if ages pass before she responds with, “Then you know that I don’t owe you anything, least of all a _conversation_.”

Whatever Azula says next, she has to make it count. She may not get another sentence out. She opens her eyes.

“I only…. I want to thank you.”

Perhaps it is a Water Tribe trait, to be so easily read; neither Katara nor her brother can mask what they are feeling. It seems so strange; it is a trick mastered by all within the Fire Nation royal court to conceal what is really being felt. Hiding one’s thoughts and emotions is crucial to survival here.

But Katara easily transitions from spite to shock, eyes widening, shoulders relaxing, even allowing her mouth to drop open slightly.

“What?”

“Thank you,” Azula repeats, the words much easier to say than she ever expected, “for the Agni Kai. Or rather, your role in it.”

Katara swallows, her eyes narrow again; suspicious. “You’re thanking me…for beating you.”

Azula nods, and hopes that she will accept it.

Life and the world are simply not that simple.

“….For chaining you down and immobilizing you. You’re thanking me for that.”

It takes far more effort than it should to suppress the sharp inhale she has from that imagery. “I am.”

“ _Why_?”

This, the explanation, is more difficult than actually thanking her. Reasons are confusing, contradictory, overlapping and muddled. But it is clear Katara will accept nothing without understanding.

“For….” And Azula exhales slowly, gathering her thoughts, trying to line them straight and say them even straighter. “For sparing me. I don’t think- no, I’m certain- that I would not have done the same for you…. Or for Zuko. And…. And by…. By defeating me, I think that my life might be better for it. Better than if I were Fire Lord.”

Katara snorts, crossing her arms over her chest, and Azula is absolutely relieved to see her do that. All thoughts of defense and attack are gone; Azula does not think she could handle being doused with water again.

Baths were hard enough to get used to again, after the Agni Kai; the all-encompassing fear of the water freezing around her, immobilizing her, not allowing her to breath was hard to squash down.

“Better for the world too.”

Azula nods, though she isn’t entirely certain of that. The world hasn’t healed much in the years after the war. It may never fully recover. She doubts she could do much worse to it. But it is better to simply agree.

“…Is this really what you wanted to tell me?” Katara questions. “I didn’t- I don’t think I’ve ever thought you’d actually thank me for that. You…were really angry.”

“Yes, Zuko says I was too,” Azula responds. “I think I was, too. For a while. But I had a lot of time to think. And I think losing the Agni Kai was the best thing that could have happened to me. And the compassion you had.”

She certainly hadn’t deserved it.

But something she has said has caught Katara’s attention, from the way she cocks her head slightly, and she frowns. “Zuko… _told_ you that you were angry?”

“Yes. It is what I just said.”

But Katara appears to be putting something together. “You don’t remember it.”

Ah. That. She’s clever, much cleverer than Azula ever thinks she is. She has kept the memory blocks and blanks and the cracks in her mind down and out of sight, hides them away so that others won’t see her as weak. As if Zuko wouldn’t have spoken to anyone about her recovery. As if she were not next in line to the throne and the soundness of her mind being a matter of national concern.

But she is trying to extend an olive branch to Katara. And Katara- with her intentions and thoughts so plain on her face- genuinely wants to know.

“I remember nearly being crowned. I remember you and my brother arriving and stopping that. The next memory I have is weeks later, in a cell.”

It is the first time she has ever heard Katara swear, and it is soft and it is quiet, and it is from deep shock. “You don’t remember how I stopped you?”

“Zuko told me.”

“But you don’t-”

“I don’t want to talk about that!”

Azula can hear the harshness in her voice, the words spewing forth against her will, but she is at her limit, and she tried, she did truly try to open up, to let Katara see that she is human. It is just too much, too much, too much.

“I’m sorry.”

An apology. It is her turn to look at Katara in surprise. She’d not expected that from her; probably just as much as Katara had ever expected gratitude from Azula.

“It’s— It’s fine,” Azula attempts to assure her, but her voice is strained. “It’s just—some moments, some…things…are too much. I don’t—I cannot dwell on them.”

Katara nods, and it is strange to see reassurance in her eyes. “.…Sokka gets that way sometimes.”

“Your brother?” Azula stares at her curiously, and Katara nods again.

“Yeah. He has good days and bad days—more good than bad, really—but he doesn’t like talking about the day of the comet, or the day of the eclipse,” she explains. “A lot of the men of my tribe are like that. My dad calls it ‘soldier’s heart.’ Says it happens to those who…see bad things, or do difficult things in war. Maybe you have it, too.”

The term is new to her, but it does not sound unlike what she’d heard generals refer to as ‘combat stress.’

“Maybe,” Azula says simply, non-committal. Because she isn’t so certain that combat is the reason for why she struggles some days and not others. So many of her good days and bad days are tied to whether or not something reminds her of her father, or her mother.

“So it isn’t just you.” Katara is now even _smiling,_ a far cry from when she’d first seen Azula, and it is so strange to have Katara smile at _her_.

Azula nods, and for the first time since approaching Katara, lets go of her own hands. Her fingers ache, so tightly they were wrapped around each other. There is movement at the edge of the courtyard; Zuko is returning.

Good. She needed an exit. She’d said all she’d needed to.

Katara follows her gaze, before looking back at her. “Well, um…. Thank you. For thanking me. I do appreciate it. It was, uh, a surprise, but not unwelcome.”

She never thought of how this would end, and she is wholly unprepared for this. “….I should be going.”

Katara nods. Neither bow to each other; she wouldn’t expect Katara to bow to her, despite her status, not with their history.

She passes Zuko on her way out of the courtyard, and he stops her, catching her at the wrist. There is concern, distrust, uncertainty in his eyes as he looks her over, as he glances at Katara waiting for him at the pond.

“…Is everything okay?” he questions, and she cannot be sure if he is asking for her sake, or Katara’s. Probably a little of both.

Easily, delicately, she pulls her arm out of his grip. “Of course, Zu-Zu,” she says. “We were only talking.”

And then she is gone from his side, returning to the comfort and the solitude of the inside of the palace walls.


End file.
